


dream a little dream of me

by Balthuza



Category: Shards of the Sun (D&D Campaign)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Gen, Ravid
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-08
Updated: 2018-12-08
Packaged: 2019-09-14 02:36:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16904487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Balthuza/pseuds/Balthuza
Summary: He doesn’t dream. It’s a bit odd, sure, but nothing to write home about.





	dream a little dream of me

He doesn’t dream. It’s a bit odd, sure, but nothing to write home about.

Tinalena finds it endlessly fascinating, and makes a point of telling him her dreams every day. Apparently she dreams a lot.

They get married in secret, a day after he comes of age and her family never quite forgives them for it, but they are not very good at hating people.

He worries for them all the time, after he becomes a full time guard and sees them less and less as the whispers of war rise. This is how his web begins to spread - at first they are friends and relatives he uses to keep in touch when he is absent for few days, sometimes weeks. Then it becomes a way to keep them safe.

Vicelin, Adalbert, Herleva, Alpais. 

He doesn’t dream. It is a shame, but he enjoys telling stories every night he is at home, weaving a fabric they can cut into their dreams. He doesn’t sleep but they do, and honestly, he is fine with that.

When the war comes, there is no time for dreams anymore. There are orders and queries, unending stream of information passing all around him, surrounding him like an ocean.

He doesn't dream. He wonders what would he see now, right in the middle of an ever growing web, collecting facts like flies.

He bookers the treaty. The dragon shifts right in from of them, all magic and metallic shine, and for the first time in a long while, he sees hope when he looks around, and he can’t help but be proud. It was his intel that brought him here. The king - old and fragile looking, his daughter and granddaughters right beside him, thanks him for his service and in the corner of his eye he can see his family beaming.

He doesn’t dream, but honestly, what use is it to dream when you are living through your golden moment.

There is a sour, acidic smell in the air, mixed in with the smoke and blood. The shadow is long gone, the streets barely coming back to life, slowly, like a scared animal.

The streets are lined up with bodies. Nobody has a mind to tell them apart. Most of the time they couldn’t if they tried.

The dragon held up her part of the deal. Nobody will take over the city.

Looking at the place where his home used to be, he feels empty.

There are no bodies. There is nothing, but the smell and ruins.

He turns around and leaves it all behind. 

He doesn’t dream. It is a blessing.


End file.
